Love: The Wild Medicine
Love is a product of a life well-lived. When we water our world, our garden will grow, that is love. Our tunnel vision in love creates a perfect box and form that can never be filled, an emptiness, while our expansive vision in life will create a fulfillment that cannot be boxed. When we can maintain this vision, our fulfillment will continually devour all emptiness that emerges. We aren't hungry for love, we are hungry for true experience. When we crave this true experience, we think we crave love when we really have a craving to deeply know and create, with and within ourselves. Casting away this box, the whole world is full, brimming, we are unconditionally infatuated with love for the people and situations that emerge, good and bad, and even the smallest breeze confesses its love for us, and us to it. The concept of a soul mate is perplexing to me, why does a soul without a sense of separation need to mate? Show me where there are souls mating, I see only human bodies and wounded children mating. Is it not through the acknowledgment of it non-separate, non-dual nature, of the soul's unity, that we draw unity? Rediscovering unity with all things creates the unity of love and partnership in many forms, including the desired ones, and this is a happy, intentional accident of the cosmic universe, not of the human mind, we cannot plan this or "obtain" this. Can we plan for two stars to collide? No, we can only orbit and hopelessly crash, crashing blissfully and carefree, two worlds then collide into one and none. Today, right now, as one soul we can rediscover ourself continuously with every blink of our human eyes, in all that we are touching and experiencing. That is love, love is nature, let love be natural and grow as the wild weed it once was before touched by the human hand. We have taken the herb of love, growing wild and free, devouring everything the eye could see, and tried to tame it, and so now it dies with us. This is not necessary, let it overcome and go where it will, don't touch it, not even to make medicine. It breathes its medicine by growing freely.
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